


A Hierarchy Defined

by beastlybat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22262242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlybat/pseuds/beastlybat
Summary: Lucifer notices his boy king of Hell is feeling a little jealous of Nick. The remedy is obviously to leave them alone and let them work it out the fun way.
Relationships: Lucifer/Nick (Supernatural), Lucifer/Sam Winchester, Nick (Supernatural)/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020, SPN Lucifer Bingo, SPN Rare Ship Bingo 2020





	A Hierarchy Defined

**Author's Note:**

> This is infused with my own personal headcanons of Hell. Some of it contradicts canon. Nothing major and it's all only addressed in passing. As always dooms is the real hero here. None of my stories would exist without my fearless beta! This fic fulfills my kink square for my SPN Rare Ship Bingo card, the authority kink square for my SPN Kink Bingo card, and the dark!au square for my SPN Lucifer Bingo card. You can find me on Tumblr at beastlybat.

Lucifer noted, one fine evening in Hell, that Sam was being awfully testy as of late. He was in the middle of a tactical discussion with the few princes who hadn't been iced during his time in The Cage and who weren't currently topside working jobs when he noticed how Hell's king kept throwing glares his way when he thought no one would notice. Of course, Sam had to know he'd notice. Lucifer noticed everything about Sam.

He had promised not to invade the other’s thoughts without express permission. It wasn't an arrangement Lucifer would offer up to anyone else. It served as a courtesy and proof of the trust between the archangel and his king at Lucifer's insistence. However, even without that unfiltered mental link, Lucifer could read the boy’s body language fluently.

He dismissed the princes as soon as their business was done. Turning to openly observe the boy, Lucifer folded his arms across his vessel's chest and crossed his ankles, back pressing against a stone pillar for support. Facing the throne, he looked on as Sam sat calling out orders; limbs stretched out, subtly asserting his claim. Lucifer's head tilted curiously as he dissected the tension he was sensing, a slender finger tapping at his vessel's lips in idle thought. It was a habit he was rather fond of because of how it made Nick squirm inside their shared consciousness.

But right now, his attention wasn't on Nick, it was squarely on Sam. A queue of demons waited patiently to speak with their king on petty matters that Lucifer couldn't begin to be bothered with. He'd take the demons' adoration readily, but if he had to listen to them sniveling over their inconsequential base problems, he'd have smote them all eons ago. They were only a stone’s throw from humans after-all, and he'd never exactly been a fan. It was why Hell needed a king. The more Lucifer had to deal with the people, the harder it was to see any point in having people in the first place. And Sam Winchester filled the role beautifully. He was fair but undeniably fearsome when someone dared to step out of line.

Watching the boy king in this element was one of Lucifer's favorite pastimes as Sam was damn sure aware. He practically glowed under the attention once he realized that the archangel was leering at him from across the room, grinning in that sinisterly cute way that Lucifer couldn't get enough of. Their hell hound pack was piled up—snoring contentedly—at the feet of the throne. Sam didn't like to keep them cooped up in the kennel and Lucifer found himself unable to deny Sam anything. So, there they were, drooling on the floor. One of them let out a pathetic, soft bark in his sleep as Sam waved the crowd away. One demon stayed behind. Lucifer didn't recognize her or care to, but the meatsuit she was in was attractive enough to contribute mildly to his growing lust as she knelt at Sam's feet and offered her bleeding wrist in donation.

Sam's mouth latched onto her proffered arm greedily, his gaze sliding over to stare at Lucifer. The intensity behind those eyes as they slid into pure darkness sent a thrill through him, but he ignored it. No sense in getting caught up in Sam's little seduction. He had his own game to play and a not-so-mysterious mystery to solve about what was making Sam so very pissy these days. He let Sam go on for a moment or two longer before pushing his vessel's body from the pillar.

"That reminds me. Nick is overdue for his own Eucharist..."

They could have shared the demon—spread her out on the stone floor and used every inch of her until she had nothing left to give either of them, feeding both vessels. But instead, he made a loud hum in way of saying goodbye as he waved to the boy and turned on his heels to leave.

"Have fun." He called behind him in a sing-song tone and the responding groan of protest that met his ears had him grinning.

To test his theory, he began encouraging Nick to stay at the forefront more often over the course of the next several days. It didn't take much. Nick always jumped at the chance to be more actively involved in anything Lucifer did.

Lucifer didn’t lessen the accolades he lavished on Sam, only increased the attention paid to Nick by taking care to praise him more aloud when Sam was near. The reaction it elicited from the mighty King of Hell was gratifying; confirming Lucifer’s suspicions, and providing him with a bitchy Sam huffing about which was endlessly amusing to him. He understood the rationale behind it even if it was completely unfounded. Sam was Lucifer’s true vessel, forged for Satan himself and the only being capable of holding him without handicapping his power to some degree, but it was Nick who was worn by him like a second skin. Sam’s personality was too strong. There was an ever present, defined line between them despite all they held in common—even when Lucifer took him as a vessel. He and Sam were parentheses; mirrored images of one another but always separate. Nick, on the other hand, melted right into Lucifer, on the brink of disappearing entirely.

Lucifer was quick to decide which potential conclusion to pursue. He told both his most devout and one-true vessels that he was needed in Heaven. Not actually a lie. He was. And the opportunity to rub it in the angels' faces that they needed _his_ help was something he was going to absolutely delight in. No need to ride a vessel there and put them in harm's way unnecessarily, not that he expected Heaven to have the balls to try anything but his patience...He'd take Dagon and Mammon with him all the same.

He whispered to Nick's consciousness, _'Don't fail this test,'_ and left him before Nick had a chance to ask questions.

The lack of explanation made the command seem even more ominous and vaguely threatening if Nick were honest. It left him feeling high strung and exposed. It was bad enough how suddenly the gaping hole within him started to consume his innards the second Lucifer left. He always felt raw without the biting sensation of Lucifer's Grace wrapped around his soul, but this added layer of menace did him no favors. 

He kept to himself mostly, sulking through the dominion. At some point, one of the lower ranking demons, who had clearly mistaken him for Lucifer, followed closely at his heels, babbling on about how they were the most dedicated follower and how they deserved a promotion. He'd stopped in his tracks and turned to give the inconsequential thing a bored and incredulous look. It had wilted instantly; cowering. He'd said nothing and the demon had scampered off. He'd caught a glimpse of Sam watching the exchange when he'd turned back around. The way Sam had been clenching that strong jaw of his hadn't exactly eased any of Nick's qualms.

Later in the throne room during a council with the Knights, Nick finally had a best guess for what test Lucifer had alluded to. He'd stumbled upon the conclusion completely by accident. 

He'd initially wandered in mostly out of habit, muscle memory. He stayed because undoubtedly Lucifer would want to see the meeting through his second-hand memories when he returned. He might have detested the minutia of keeping Hell operating, but when it came to his most trusted inner circle, Nick knew that Lucifer took things very seriously. God himself had carved Lucifer out his own kingdom and Lucifer was known for taking fierce pride in the things he claimed as his own.

No one makes the same mistake the lower ranked demon had earlier. The boy king and the Knights knew Lucifer too well to be fooled by his exterior. He'd gotten good at carrying himself exactly as Lucifer did and fooling the majority of Hell's inhabitants took little to no effort. But you could see the difference in his eyes if you knew what to look for. 

In Lucifer's absence, the Knights relayed their reports to their king, respectfully answering his questions when prompted and asking questions about their next objective.

Nick quietly observed from the sidelines until one of the Knights mentioned a lead on some of the original fallen angels, those who had followed Lucifer when he'd been cast out of Heaven by Michael. They'd fled Hell and had gone into hiding once Lucifer had been caged, fearing Lilith and her demons. Most of them had been hunted and killed by their fellow angels, but a few remained, and Lucifer had been intent on finding them.

Sam's eyes flashed, "Drag 'em down. Make sure they pay for deserting."

"Don't." Suddenly all eyes were on Nick, "They should be unharmed."

That _was_ what Lucifer wanted. He knew it was. He knew how Lucifer wanted to bring the fallen angels back to where they belonged, under his protection. At first, Nick even toyed with the idea that maybe this was his test. Maybe Lucifer had wanted him to ensure that things went the way he intended for them to while he was otherwise occupied in Heaven. Lucifer shared so much of himself with Nick after-all. Nick knew a lot of his long-term plans...

There was a flat pressure at his Adam's apple, steadily increasing until Nick's hands were clawing at his throat reflexively even if he knew it wouldn't do any good. He struggled to fill his lungs with enough oxygen despite the constriction, eyes watering as they bulged with the effort.

"Leave us." Sam said through gritted teeth without taking his eyes off Nick, his hand straining in the air as he siphoned the demon blood in his system to flex his telekinetic muscle. 

The Knights hesitated for a moment, exchanging conflicted looks among themselves before they followed the command of their king. Nick was left panicking because he was under the impression that there was an unspoken rule in which no one could lay a hand on him—and sure, _technically_ Sam hadn't done so yet, but if anyone could get away with damaging his body, it was Sam Winchester, and he'd seen time and again just how much damage Sam Winchester could inflict if he felt moved to.

Sam stood. As he moved toward Nick, Nick's body was pushed backward until his back collided with one of the pillars in the room. The boy king finally released his hold on Nick's throat, causing Nick to slump forward, his hands on his knees as he drew in long, unsteady breaths. 

Sam was still a good ways away. That distance was decreasing with each passing moment; Nick's heart rate increasing. The traces of latent Grace within him were starting to fire off, addling his senses and causing his blood to flow more aggressively. He wasn't sure if it was an after-effect of having seen Sam through Lucifer's perspective for so long or his own desire to have powerful people take an interest in him whether good or bad that had all that blood funneling straight into his dick. 

"Let's get one thing straight," Sam said with arms spread wide, "I'm in charge here. And I don't care about how much you _think_ you know what Lucifer wants. I don't care that you think just because he uses you, that you can do whatever you want." 

"But I was just trying—"

"No, you listen to me!" Sam demanded, having closed the distance. He grabbed Nick by the neck, pushing him flat against the pillar.

"What is your problem, man?! I was trying to help!"

"You have no right to speak out of turn against me. None." 

Nick's instincts were screaming at him to break out of the hold and draw on powers he didn't actually possess. However, he stayed still because something about what Sam had said made Nick realize that _this_ , this was the test Lucifer had meant. For some unbelievable reason, Sam was feeling threatened by the connection Nick had with Lucifer. His ego surged. Sam was jealous of him? He didn't know the rules of this new test or Lucifer's desired outcome, but he could take a damn good guess.

"You should beg me for mercy, for forgiveness."

Sam growled and backed off, turning in a circle as he gives a small turn of his head, clearly under emotional duress of some kind. Was he holding back? Was he worried about the potential of incurring Lucifer's wrath? 

"Actually, let me rephrase that..." Sam says and despite the small amount of space he has afforded Nick, his voice only holds more contempt than it did before, "Beg. For. Mercy." 

Nick fought back the urge to spit words of defiance and instead sinks to his knees in front of the other, because it feels like the right move. Sam responds by gripping at Nick's hair with one hand, giving it a hard tug and yeah, okay, Nick could get into this. He looks up at the boy king through his lashes and trying his best to look repentant but between the humming traces of Grace and the building lust, he has a feeling that it comes off as more salacious. 

All the same, he begs, "Please? You're right. I was out of line. Please show mercy, my king?"

"You have an awfully high opinion of yourself, Nick. You need to be put in your place. You're just a vessel, not his perfect vessel. You're like a cheap suit. And you need to learn to show some respect for your superiors."

Nick falters. Because that stings. He wants more than anything to defend the integrity of his and Lucifer's bond, but he knows it's not the right thing to do and Lucifer would want him to do the right thing by Sam. 

"You do what I say. You follow my orders."

Nick doesn't stop the moan from spilling out his mouth at Sam's words, that commanding tone that rumbles through his broad chest. Sam's hand is still threaded in his hair and he takes that as a sign of encouragement. Nick dares to lean into the touch, inching closer so that he can breathe against the bulge of Sam's pants. He's mouthing at it when there's a harsh pull and he realizes that he'd been humming contentedly the way Lucifer was prone to do.

"Alright, stand up. I said stand up!"

Nick doesn't respond right away. He flusters and it takes him a long moment process the command. 

"Do as you're told." Sam growls, lifting Nick up by his grip in the other's hair.

He's pulled into a searing kiss and it's more about dominating his mouth than any form of affection. Nick goes soft. He lets Sam take it. As much as he's grown to love the high he gets from overpowering someone else, by proxy or by his own will, it doesn't much matter—he has no problem submitting to Hell's king, to Lucifer's perfect vessel. Especially knowing about Sam's envy. He'll show Sam just how dedicated of a follower he could be.

When the kiss breaks, Sam pushes down on his shoulders causing him to fall painfully back onto his knees, but Nick doesn't complain. He's quick to rid Sam of his belt, to unzip those hip hugger jeans of his which are so damn obscene just by existing and shouldn't be. Nick is rattling off apologies, contrite as can be, as he worked on freeing Sam's erection. His hands grip Sam's hips, resting on the defined lines of bone and thick muscle, as he swallows him down to the hilt without warning. Nick struggles not to gag, but manages, pushing his tongue to the underside of Sam's cock, delighting in the groan that rings out. 

He starts slow at first, sliding his mouth up so that only the head rests on his tongue; teasing the slit and coating it in precum before sliding all the way back down. But Sam's fingers are back in his hair and it makes him want to go faster. Which is good because in a few quick strokes, Sam is gripping at his scalp and fucking his face and Nick can't do anything but focus on his breathing and trying not to gag. Tears well up in the corners of his eyes from the brutality of Sam's sharp movements and Nick would be lying if he said he didn't love it. 

"Oh fuck," Sam snarls, "I'm going to cum and you're going to go around the rest of the day wreaking of me and throbbing, because you don't deserve to cum after the stint you pulled, do you?"

Sam obviously isn't expecting a response, but Nick stares up at him with eyes blown wide, trying to hollow his cheeks as best he can. Sam cums and Nick is sputtering, the mess coats his mouth, his cheek, and he wouldn't be surprised if some of it is in his hair based on the smug look the boy king is giving him. 

And then just like that it's over and Sam has tucked himself back into his jeans and is sitting back on top of throne as if nothing had happened.

"Now get out."


End file.
